There Should Be AAA for LIFE!

The alarm goes of at 5:33 am. Naturally, I'm already awake. After getting in late from grad class (the fun never ends!), I ended up nodding off probably close to 12:30/1:00 am aka hardly slept. Still, I managed to get a lot of food together (substance what!), my laundry, gym stuff, work stuff, lots of stuff and mosey out the door with plenty of time to spare! I make the trek down three flights of stairs, throw Cheddar's poop in the trash, reach the car.  Keys. For the love of Peter, where are my keys?! After searching all of the bags numerous times reality sets in: work keys, car keys, apartment keys are all on my kitchen table.

I ring the doorbell and my lovely neighbor answers the door. Score! I am into the building. I ask her for my landlord's number (ever since my phone updated, numbers have not been saving correctly). Not being an English speaker, she has no idea what I am asking for. The irony that I am an ESL teacher is not lost on me. I get to my floor and try the door.  Just as I had suspected, it is locked. Cheddar proceeds to cry from inside the apartment for much longer than should be allowed. Does he meow all day when I am at work?? I decide to make some calls. I call my realtor, who, oddly enough, is my deceased great aunt (and she really was great!)'s adopted daughter. She has apartments to show but can get to me around 10:35 aka in 3 and a half hours. She sends me a kazzillion numbers to call in the mean time. I call all the numbers, no response. I go get a coffee. Coffee upsets my stomach but do you think I care? No. I head over to this delightful coffee shop where the peeps working the counter sing in vibrato just like I do! These are my people! I walk in and say that I need something "on the rocks".  Coffee is not really want I want but I understand that more adult options are not available here, especially at 8 am. I go for a butterfinger flavored iced coffee-not too shabby! I get all jittery, peruse the paper, find some good recipes, read my horoscope (crap), and kick it. A man with a an eye patch walks in. Wonderful. Cops come to the door. The counter peeps make siren sounds as they enter. One of the popo's has baby bangs. He's a dude cop with baby bangs. I mean, does it get any better than this?! Of course it does! Mrs. Luciano walks in! Mrs. Luciano is something else. The counter peeps have a whole song about her. It's all too good. I go to the bathroom (twice). The trashcan in the bathroom reads "don't front". What! You best not! I order a BMT: bacon, mustard, tomato and MUCH more! Cheese! Arugula! Hot peppers! So what if I ate a pb and banana sandwich at 6:30 am? What else am I going to do?? My phone rings. The realtor will be at my apartment with the keys in 5 minutes. She doesn't have much time for she has to get two teeth extracted. I pay, thank the peeps, leave them a penguin/cat/shark drawing, take my sandwich, and head off. When I reach my apartment, the outside door is locked. I had left it unlocked, but now it is locked. A sinking feeling sets in---does my realtor have an exterior key or just an interior key?! The realtor arrives. No, she does not have an exterior key, just an interior. We spend the next 6 minutes banging on the doors, ringing the bells, and calling the other tenants. Nothing! The realtor has to go get her teeth extracted. She leaves. I eat my sandwich on my apartment steps. It's truly magnificent. Thank you sandwich. I bite the bullet and call a locksmith, $75, will be there in a half an hour. Meanwhile, the realtor calls back. She went all the way to the dentist, got the Novocaine and then is told that the replacement teeth are not in. Not wanting to show apartments toothless, she jumped out of the dentist's chair and ever so kindly got back to me. She had gotten in touch with the landlord, he is so sorry he missed my call, he has a spare key....45 minutes away. My realtor aka guardian angel, goes to get the key for me. I go to get a drink, because at this point?? Oh, how have I not mentioned that I had to take an emergency personal day at work due to the whole I cannot literally get to work today thing. Ideally, my personal day would have gone to time on a beach or something of that nature, but this is definitely more on par with my life. G.A. (guardian angel) suggests I go to a coffee shop. It's 11:35 am, no more coffee for me, I'm getting a DRINK. I walk into this cute crepe joint, "Is it too early to get a drink?" The bartender guy is like, "Have you met me?" No, I have not met him, but he is not bad. There is another woman at the bar area who is treating herself to anything she wants for the day. Today she wants a hot dog. She ends up getting this huge hot dog crepe with chili on it. Her collar is glittery like a disco ball. She can literally start a dance party wherever she goes. I let her know this. The bartender and I spend the next hour discussing milk, contemplating why it's called a toothbrush and not a teethbrush. and trying to figure out the back/front of the arm--the arm is sort of both front and back at the same time! The convo is good, real good, but my phone rings again. G.A. will be at the apartment in ten minutes with the keys. It's 1:11 pm.

Finding the humor in the situation, I made a status update about it on Facebook. Some people comment that they are sorry about my day. Is it bad that this is one of the BETTER days I have had in a while?? Ha, oh man. My sister wrote that there should be AAA for apartments, to which I responded, "There should be AAA for LIFE!" It's not all about cars and apartments. Guy you're dating has gone missing? There's AAA for that! Cat is attacking your feet? There's AAA for that! The man getting you down? There's AAA for that!

Also, I have not written a blog entry in months. Too busy with work and school and non-fun, but yo, stuff is still ridiculous, and I've got stories to tell!

Feelin' On Your Booty.

Let me begin by saying that Killah K's Day to Day has become more of like Killah K's Month to Month. This is because I've been working and in grad school and basically am like, this is not fun.  Though, this is not to say that I haven't had a couple of wtf moments along the way.  For instance, the day I was waiting for the commuter rail to go to class and let a woman borrow my phone and then the train takes off and I have to wave the conductor dude down.  He catches my eye and the train, though still moving, sort of slows down, and I am able to do a run/jump on. Very badass. Or something.

But that is neither here nor there. That saying does not actually make sense right now, but I felt like throwing it in.  

In addition to working/school, I also agreed to cat sit 6 cats.  I like cats, a lot.  But, can you imagine how much number deux 6 cats produces?! It's nuts, I tell ya! Nuts. The cat sitting was a two week ordeal. Only 2 of the 6 cats are allowed to go outside.  Of course, one of the cats that goes outside is named Stella which causes me to literally yell "Stella! Stella!" as I search for her around the yard. Ridiculous.

So, cat sitting takes awhile because there's the poop, the food, the petting, and the occasional game of string.  The other weekend it sort of made me late to my friend's wedding.  I went over to check on the cats and it took a long time, as usual. Though, in this case, it was because the cat lady's daughter was there so I talked to her about life plans. That's a whole different story.

My friend is texting me, asking when I'm going to show up for the wedding and I write back something about the cats.  Then I hit the highway.

It is supposed to take around two and a half hours to get to the wedding venue.  I-90 folks. Not good. I'm talking 0-20 miles an hour for two hours or so.  Finally! A break in the traffic, and I'm not gonna lie, I try to make up for lost time. I'm speeding, just a little. I get pulled over. I get pulled over listening to Frank Sinatra.  I've never been pulled over before. I was kind of proud that I actually got across all of the lanes and made a full stop. The police guy was nice enough.  He asked me how fast I was going.  As usual, I can't lie...."Ah, 78?" He said I was going 84. Oops. But honestly, who doesn't go 84 these days?! It's crazy out there on the road! The man actually reduced my fee to $100 which was quite nice of him.  Here's the problem though: I can't find the ticket! I can't find the ticket! Who loses their speeding ticket?! This is what I get for trying to organize! 

The wedding starts at 5pm and it is already 4:42 and I am not even at the exit yet. And I still have to change since I'm wearing my Sherlock Holmes shark shirt-a shark that is dressed as Sherlock Holmes??!! It doesn't get any better than that! Part of me considers not even going because to be honest, I'm feeling quite a hot mess. Still, I rally. I'm already there and this is a good friend and other lovely people will be there.  

I arrive at the wedding at 5:30. AKA when the bride and groom are walking up the stairs to the lobby area of the mansion/hotel/venue that I just walked into.  I sink into a chair and cover my face trying to be invisible.  Of course, this not work and I end up hugging my friend, Sarah, the lovely bride, and saying congratulations and mumbling something.  

The reception comes and there is food and dancing, both of which I very much enjoy.  I'm talking to one of Sarah's friends and she is going on about how she hates it when people where white to a wedding. And then she looks down at me.  "Oh, not you though!" This is when I realized that I wore white to a wedding. In my defense, there were polka dots on my dress, tiny maybe, but they were there. Tell me people, who the hell shows up late to their friend's wedding AND wears a white dress?! Oh, that would be me. No big deal. The speeding ticket has to count for something though, right? Like, my dedication to the cause???

My friend Cruz and I immediately hit up the DJ, requesting "Feelin' on Your Booty" by R. Kelly and "Rich Girl" by Hall and Oates AKA MUST HAVE JAMS! The DJ promises that he will play both.  Hours go by.  Hours. No songs. Cruz goes up and requests a song with a Latin beat so her and a dude can break out their mad Salsa dancing skills. The DJ plays the song immediately.  The DJ also plays Usher's "DJ's Got Us Falling In Love" and is SO into it. It's as if he believes the song-that he really is making people fall in love.  I think he takes pride in this Usher hit.  In fact, I know it.  It should also be noted that there was a six year-old girl at the wedding who was a dancing machine.  At first, I was sort of impressed, but also kind of like, who does this girl think she is? She is taking up the whole dance floor! I want to dance battle her! It is difficult to dance battle in some dresses may I add. But, eventually, I gave in and decided to be a mature adult and dance with her instead of against her.  I gotta admit, she did have some mad skills. Her signature move, the piano leg, consisted of her flipping one leg up across the other one and playing the piano on it.  It was very impressive and it caught on fast. Finally, after a few more visits to the DJ, he gave in and played my requested songs.  He said something about how he always intended to play the songs, but there was no place to "fit them in".  No place to fit in R. Kelly? No place to fit in Hall and Oates? C'est impossible! I tell ya, "Feelin' on Your Booty" was SOMETHING OUT THERE! Cruz, Ca$h and I gettin' down.  Everyone else seemed kind of confused.  I have no idea why....

Diaper Opera, Dentist, Tasmanian Devil, 1812 Overture.

You know something is wrong when someone asks you: "So, do you have any fun plans for the week?" and you reply: "Well, I'm going to the dentist! Oh, but that's next week."

Yes, that did happen.

Tuesday, July 9th=WTF is My Life Part 158545.

The day began in its usual way: a little meditation, peanut butter toast, Early Gray tea, then it was off to work. I am working with severely Autistic preK kids for my summer gig.  It's pretty good times minus the changing of diapers.  I'm seriously changing like 12 diapers a day, and that's a low ball estimate. Yes, there are some very foul toots, and yes, my back hurts from picking up kid after kid.  I try to make up for what could be pure miserableness by making diaper time into an opera. I get my vibrato on and sing "how are you doooooingggg? I'm changing your diaaappppper!!! You're laughing at me because I have to change youuuuuu! This is grooosssssss but heeeeeey everybody doooooessss it" at like the top of my lungs. My co-workers later told me that they thought someone had put on the radio before realizing that I was just having an opera in the bathroom.

Somewhere after like the millionth diaper of the day, it dawns on me that I'm really friggin' tired and also quite out of it. What day is it? Where am I? What's happening? Why?!

After work it is time for me to make the trek to my graduate class. Naturally, I'm quite dazed and drive past where I am supposed to go and have to pull into a McDonald's to turn around.  A co-worker notices me in my car and stops to let me out. I wave all out of it as I marginally escape getting hit by another car. My co-worker later told me she is glad she didn't get me into an accident by letting me go. I managed to get a Honey Dew iced coffee on the way to the commuter rail station and for that I was thankful. Maybe this day was turning around.  It was when a woman approached me and asked, "Are you looking for a dentist?" that I started to feel good about life again. Why yes, I was looking for a dentist. Granted, during my guided mediation in the morning when Gabby Bernstein encourages me to state my desires aloud for the universe to hear, finding a dentist is not number one on the list. But, I really do need to go to a dentist, and unlike other doctors where I feel totally invaded and may pass out, I'm generally okay and getting my teeth cleaned. So, yes, I am actually quite excited to be approached by this woman asking me if I need a dentist. She is a dentist outreach coordinator and sets my appointment up right and there. She also gave me a flyer for an upcoming pizza party...because pizza involves chewing which is good exercise for the teeth and because cheese is an excellent source of calcium?? It all got me to thinking though, like is the universe delivering me a dentist because I was thinking about how I needed one three months ago? Wouldn't it be nice if someone approached me with a flyer and said, "Would you like a handsome and funny boyfriend who isn't afraid of commitment? Yes, we do accept your insurance!" or "Hi, you look like someone who would really love an orange kitten! Well, here is a flyer for some cats that I have. Yes, they have been fixed and have all of their shots and will look great with your new lamps!" or "Hi! I was thinking that you may need a high paying teaching job that you'll love and maybe a writing gig on the side? I can also offer you your own television show. Here's my card!" I mean, that would be sweet. Universe yo, get on this!


Anyway, so I'm feeling pretty good with my caffeinated self knowing that I will have clean teeth within two weeks. Score!  I get off at Back Bay and then proceed to get lost on the way to class even though I have previously lived in Boston for five years.  I end up walking around in a legit circle for thirty minutes, end up back at Back Bay, and give up, taking the subway the two stops to Ruggles.

I arrived in class legit tasmanian devil style. I already have to pee which is quite annoying because can I already leave the room to go to the bathroom? Probably not. Though, I am an adult (I remind myself), so I can sort of technically do anything I want? But of course, I don't and I wait a couple of hours. I am actually sort of proud that I am able to hold it in, and also, that I am somewhat coherent when speaking. I make it through class, but not before my professor informs me that the other course I am taking is an advanced graduate course. This is only my first semester in my program; I should NOT be in any advanced classes! Jeeze louise! Of course, that is kind of low on my worry-pole considering that I did not have time to eat and am currently dying of hunger! I'm not a skip meals type of chick. I wanted a burrito so bad, but had to settle for a friggin' KIND bar. Nothing kind about that when all you want is some chicken and guac rolled up in a tortilla, for the love of Pete!

So, on the train ride home, this girl from class and I are chatting about life, and that's when she asks me, "So, do you have any fun plans for the week?" and I reply: "Well, I'm going to the dentist! Oh, but that's next week." I'm pretty sure the girl is thinking, why the hell am I sitting with this tasmanian devil?! But whatever.

Also, so sidebar...I recently had a job interview for a kindergarten position which I am not quite qualified for because there are all these tests one has to take to become certified and even though I am now like ESL, elementary, and special ed certified, I am somehow not early childhood. I am also newish to the game so there are definitely people with more experience than me. So, I had this dream that the principal who interviewed me told me he really wanted to hire me but he had to go with someone born in 1812 because she was so experienced. I mean, really subconscious?! I also wonder if the year 1812 came up because it was recently the 4th of July and the "1812 Overture" is all popular and whatnot.

GMA RAGIN'!!!

A few weeks ago, I gave my Gma a choice: ice cream or a drink. Not even a second did she take to make up her mind: DRINK. We headed to a restaurant/bar in Bristol, RI. I would have figured she would want to sit outside and take in the scenic water view. No. She wanted to sit RIGHT at the bar. Naturally, she knew the bartender as well as many other guys in the joint, despite not being a regular customer. She just seems to know someone (or everyone) everywhere we go. A month back, she held up a funeral line chatting everyone up. Anyway, Gma was absolutely fascinated by the business of the joint and even dealt well with a fella named Phil who was quite intoxicated, though she did express that she hoped he would not come back. The soda gun really threw her for a loop. "What's that?! I've never seen one of those before!!" Yeah, just like you think chicken on top of a salad is a new creation. Okaaaaay. All in all though, Gma with a stinger=good time.

In Yo' Face like a Can of Mayo....errr...MACE!!!

What up summertime crew?! I have been slacking lately. This has been a direct result of me starting grad school, taking tests like a mofo, and applying mayo to my face on the regs. These kinda haps fosho take up much time! On a side bar, I literally had to Google "haps on the craps" to see just how many letter P's are involved. Just one, despite "happenings" having two. Crazy stuff. Anyway, mayo in the face, you ask?? Why yes. It softens the skin like crazy!!! Crazy I tell you!! After a week of applying, you'll wonder if your face has been replaced with a baby's behind! The only problem thus far is that the applying of such mayo is making me crave chips and a sandwich. I'm not quite ready for lunch, but I WANT LUNCH!! And I'm not even a huge mayo consumer, but the smell is creating quite a rumble-y in my tummy.

I probably should stop procrastinating and do some actual work, but fear not! I've been jotting down things I've been meaning to blog about on random receipts and in between notes, which proves that my brain is not totally empty these days (though at times it does feel like it).

Let me leave you when an Ol' Dirty Bastard classic: Brooklyn Zoo. My brother and I used to listen to this in our Toyota Camry on the way to school back in the day. Please note the lyric: in your face like a can of mace. Such rhymin'!

Gma's 85th.

My Gma turned 85 on May 18th. Her first choice for celebrating was at the nearest casino but since my three-year old niece and some of my cousins would not be able to get in, we settled for her second choice, a restaurant called the Country Inn, which is a complete haven for snowcap heads. Please enjoy the following pictures. As you can tell, my family and I have some trouble behaving in public places.

Yup, that's Santa Claus. He was sitting at the table across from us which was basically the best thing EVER. I am obsessed with Christmas. I think I was more nervous to meet him than I was to meet Mark Wahlberg. Also, my Aunt Kathy and I may have thrown some napkins at a point. Since there is no pictures of that, let's say it didn't happen....

Rod Stuart, Phil Collins=Nostalgia at Age 8.

June 6th marked my 29th year of blessing this here Earth. Holla! As usual, I had around five minutes this past week dedicated to having my parents assure me that 29 is still a young and vibrant age. This is something, I feel, that is sort of common for people to start worrying about once they hit, oh, 26 or so.  Creeping up on thirty-how in the world?! They wonder! Here are two truths though: 1. Thirty is NOT old. Nor is 100, as long as you find the joys of being alive, stay active, and healthy. 2. I've felt simultaneously old and also young since the age of 7 or 8. Dead serious. This has something to do with

Birthday dinner #1. Birthdays=food=stomach ache=worth it.

Best cake ever courtesy of my amazing mom. 

Phil Collins, Rod Stewart,and Don Henley, as well as a few other popular songsters. I have vivid memories of driving around in my parents' station wagon at age seven wondering if I was old as Phil or Rod or Don blared through the radio, making me feel super nostalgic.  I would think about who exactly  is this Maggie May?, what exactly is in the air tonight? hold on!, and how I remembered when I heard the "Boys of Summer" the previous summer, at age six.

And TMI but when I finally got my period I cried all day, making my mom assure me that she still loved me even though I was officially old. I was in like sixth grade.

I guess there is a fear that life will just pass by, another year of thinking about Maggie, but this really is not the case. Every day in every year is worth living. Every day is a brand new start. So with that in mind, I try to really value my life. I am pretty lucky after-all! And I think most of us are pretty lucky if we start focusing on what really matters and living life to the fullest.

Now this has somehow gotten way too preachy and for that I apologize. But go forth people! Truly enjoy your days! Get low! Stay young! Feel vibrant! Life is for living!